


Rules of Engagement

by ravenromance27



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22987657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenromance27/pseuds/ravenromance27
Summary: A new Don eager to learn the ways and rules of his world is given the monumental task of preparing to meet with the esteemed Vongola Famiglia. With a guidebook , a loyal vassal and an army of last minute tips ringing inside his head as his only defense against the madness that is Vongola, is there anyway for him to survive?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	1. The Rule Book

**Authors Note:** I don't own KHR. Most of the time I don't even own the madness that comes out of my mind. Why I wrote this—hm…hard to tell. Only that I thought it must be quite amusing seeing how someone outside Decimo's sphere would act if they were given a survival guide and nothing else and then thrown into the arena that is the Vongola Famiglia. That's it. October 2013 – Ah…tweaking…made his age a little closer to the future Tsuna…fixing some of the weirdness. Not perfect still. I have no beta reader and my proofreader still doesn't want the damned job of reading the "trashy" things I write.

2020- I feel I need to write this warning so as to prevent future comments: All Italian conversations, terminology and whatnot are the product of my radical and wanton use of Google Translate.

* * *

_**Rules of Engagement** _

_**You have to learn the rules of the game.** _

_**And then you have to play better than anyone else.** _

_**-Albert Einstein** _

* * *

It was an imposing 16th century villa that celebrated everything that was beautiful and magnificent about the renaissance. Roughly hewn stones that concealed elegantly appointed courtyards made from the finest marble. Opulent suites of rooms draped in velvet with priceless carpets that lined the floors…painting and murals of countless masters juxtaposed against inconspicuous nooks and crannies housing a treasure trove of wealth accumulated through years of trade, wars and the eventual entrée into the diverse world known to the all and sundry as La Cosa Nostra.

It was certainly apt that in this well-to-do and deeply entrenched world that the newly elected seventeenth head of the well-established, well-to-do Corvino Famiglia found himself contemplating the vicissitudes of his life. Alessandro Valerius Corvino was a young man of thirty, gifted with grace, poise and intelligence and a face that turned heads whenever he deemed it worth his while to venture outside.

Alessandro was born in a family with three offspring’s—himself being the eldest and only son; he has been trained from the cradle to one day take over the reins of the family business and become a great boss. He was a man well-trained in the particulars and peculiarities of the Underworld having been subjected to its myriad rules of etiquette and unspoken codes long before he could even write his own name.

But unlike most would-be heirs and successors to the Famiglia, Alessandro was not raised to be an antiquated member of this selective sector. His grandparents and parents, indeed from the very first Corvino Don down the line of successors, firmly held the belief that to survive and flourish in a fast changing world, a great and effective leader must adapt and be well-prepared. His entire family has been devoted to the cause—both personal and professional—to the advancement and continuance of the Corvino Famiglia for seventeen generations. He was expected, upon his father's retirement naturally, to continue to do what is good for the famiglia. To ensure that the lineage will continue on until the very end.

Classically educated in the finest boarding schools of Europe, trained and groomed in the most exclusive business universities of the world, polished with every advantage allowed to someone who would later stand at the pinnacle of a powerful and wealthy organization, the young don was not unduly ruffled when the summons came from the head of his famiglia's alliance. He knew that he needed to establish his own relationships with the current members of the Main Famiglia in which his own belongs to. It was just another rite of passage to go through for any heir-apparent. It was routine—like picking the most suitable right-hand man and the right tailor for one’s suits.

He was however; mightily curious as to the reason why there had to be two particular sessions necessary before his actual presentation to the Main Famiglia in which their alliance belongs to. He understands the power and precedent necessary in establishing hierarchy and respects it mightily since he came from a corporate background, but still the notion made him speculate. It made him hesitant and wary of the actions he was about to undertake. It didn't bode well for anyone when a simple 'meet-and-greet' becomes something tedious and all too officious by half. It certainly didn't help one bit when the truth was that despite the young Don's education and ȕber-proper public image, he possessed a sense of fatalistic humor and dry wit that never fails to amuse and bemuse those around him and it was something he kept a closely guarded secret. He wanted only to project an image of perfection and cool efficiency. His personal feeling and foibles such as they were, he believed strongly, was not for the others to view and use against him.

The morning of his first meeting with the head of his alliance, Don Corvino emerged from the master suite and was greeted by his personal valet, general factotum and head of security, Mossimo Usignolo. A quiet man, wiry and instantly recognizable by his impeccably cut black suit and black wire frame glasses that concealed clever gray eyes, he has been the young don's body guard and steward since the don was five years old.

_"Buongiorno, il principino."_ **Good morning, little prince.**

Alessandro glared balefully at his clearly too happy second-in-command. _"_

_Mossimo, smettila scherzando intorno. È ancora troppo presto, no?"_

**Mossimo, stop joking around. It's too early in the morning for that don't you think?**

"Just as you say, Boss." Mossimo merely nodded agreeably.

"Is that so?"

"Indeed it is, Sir."

"Huh. Tell me, Mossimo, how is it that I had to become the boss before you agreed with everything I say?"

"Now, now Boss, who says I will agree to everything you say?"

"Well, knowing you…I am after all the Boss now."

"As you were meant to be sir. Now, what good would that title do either one of us if I just followed you willy-nilly into the things that pop into your head?"

"So that means no, right?"

"Indeed, sir."

The two of them fell into step and proceeded to the sun-filled salon where the young don has taken to eating his meals. He sat on one of the elegant wicker chairs that faced the ubiquitous Tuscan landscape and sighed.

"Breakfast, sir?"

He spared a look at the sumptuous repast laid before him and cringed at the notion of food. No matter what others may say, being boss is not as easy as others seemed to believe. He accepted the cup of coffee Mossimo pressed against his hand and contemplated the question of dining once more.

"I wonder if I should even eat. I've been to corporate meetings knowing I'm being led to veritable frenzy of sharks high on bloodlust and felt more relaxed than I do today. It's rather pathetic for thirty-year old to have an attack of nerves don't you think?"

"I would wonder more if you ate like nothing of merit was happening today. By the by, the Advisor of the Head Alliance came by this morning and expressed his felicitations on your ascension and apologizes for his own Boss's shortcomings. I believe he made mention of certain incidents that needed to be attended to personally by his Boss."

"Hmmm…is that so?” Alessandro took a sip of the excellently brewed coffee, cocking an inquiring brow at his clearly amused companion. “I believe the Cavallone Don was out settling a turf war during my inheritance ceremony."

Mossimo snappily brought a small tablet out, swiping the screen a few times as he nodded. "That was my understanding too. No matter the reason for his decision or latest actuation, the Cavallone Don has undertaken the task of personally presenting you to the most powerful Famiglia in our world as a belated inheritance gift. That is an honor he doesn't confer on anyone freely.”

Mossimo pushed back his glasses reflexively up the bridge his nose as he consulted his notes once more. “I heard that he considers the Head Famiglia and their young Don to be something of a private and personal matter to him. It is not a favor he dispenses to a whole lot of people—regardless of power, influence or wealth."

"Then I shall consider his gift accordingly and thank him properly for it." Alessandro finally cracked a smile since waking up and winked at his companion. "I do believe I am ready to eat now Mossimo. My appetite has been fully restored."

He reached out for the plate of toast and after slathering one with enough marmalade to double its weight, took a hearty bite. He was now fully immersed in mentally reviewing other matters in his daily schedule when Mossimo cleared his throat at him meaningfully. Glancing at his valet, he absently noted the wrapped parcel held in the man’s hand.

"Do you need anything else today Mossimo?"

"Not to ruin your meal, Boss, but the Cavallone Don's gift comes in two. His Chief Advisor has left this with the request that you familiarize yourself with its content as soon as you are able and that it would be to your best advantage to learn it before you are to be presented."

Dropping his half eaten toast on his plate, the young don wiped at his mouth slowly before pinning his valet with a look, all signs of animation or humor erased from his patrician face as if they were never there.

"What precisely is that parcel Mossimo?"

"Romario of the Cavallone Famiglia called it Rules of Engagement. I believe that it contains protocols when meeting with the Head Famiglia's young Don."

The Corvino Don stared at the innocuous-looking package and felt an atavistic chill crawl up his spine. Whatever it was that the wrapped volume contained, it was no simple instruction or protocol. He took a final bracing sip of his morning coffee and grimaced before forcing his hand out to reach for the wrapped parcel. It didn't bode well for his chilled spine when he felt the weighty tome land against his palm.

" _Rules of Engagement_? Why ever would such a thing exist?"

"Perhaps it would be wise to find out, my lord."

"Undoubtedly Mossimo. Undoubtedly."

The parcel, once unwrapped from its bindings revealed a thin, albeit intricately detailed and tooled leather journal written in a precise and graceful hand. The surprisingly thin volume consists of seemingly chapters concentrating of rules of etiquette. With a resigned sigh, the young Corvino don turned the first few pages and began to read.

* * *

_**REGOLE DI INGAGGIO** _

_**Rules of Engagement Prima Regola (Rule 1)** _

_**When meeting with the Vongola Famiglia with the purpose of meeting and engaging Decimo, remember that timing is** _ **everything** _**.** _

* * *

Alessandro Corvino frowned. That this seemingly simpleminded adage was actually rule number one seemed rather inane. Everyone with half a brain knows that, he mused. There are some pointers when and when not to schedule any meetings or alliance especially with someone as powerful as the Head Famiglia, but somehow this detailed list that was given to him by the Cavallone Don seemed excessive to the point of presumptuousness to some degree. He wondered briefly if he was either being mocked or tested by the established don and spent countless minutes contemplating the very first instructions for hidden meanings or loopholes. Finding none, he wondered if perhaps, he was reading too much into the actual instruction itself. He understood the fundamental necessity of good timing, but the rules by which the Vongola was to be met pointed to a manner idiosyncratic and extreme that it seemed almost ludicrous.

He glanced at the first bulleted guide and couldn't resist snorting:

* * *

**DO NOT under any circumstance come too early in the morning. With the exception of a life and death situation you can no longer handle on your own, there is NO reason to come early AT ANY OTHER TIME.**

**For further reference:** _Testarossa Famiglia._

* * *

"Mossimo."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Do you recall any news about the Testarossa Famiglia recently?"

"They no longer exist, my lord."

"No longer-!" he stared at his valet and tried to recall any note from his father that might have mentioned such an event but he had perfect recall of every conversation he had with his family and could say that such a thing never came up. He tried to remember if there had been any news or piece of rumor that has filtered down the grapevine of the underworld regarding the old famiglia and realized to his chagrin that he came up with a blank.

Bemused, he posed the question hovering at the tip of his tongue. "Have they been eradicated completely?"

He watched as his valet deftly lifted a silver cloche off a serving dish, spooned risotto onto a vividly patterned plate before placing it in front of him with his usual efficient flourish. His question, however, remained unanswered until he pinned the man with a gimlet gaze.

"Is there anything else you require sir?"

"The Testarossa Famiglia Mossimo."

"Ah, yes. I do believe that is so, my lord. It would seem that the entire Famiglia has removed itself from all and every aspect of the Underworld, my lord. They have been out, so to speak, for nearly two years now and haven't been heard from since."

"When was this? Why haven't I heard of it—certainly I haven't heard a word or whisper of it from anyone?"

"You were in the United States during the time sir—finalizing a merger with one of the families’ subsidiaries. The old Don felt that it wasn’t an urgent enough matter to disrupt your trip. I believe the general consensus at the time was that they deserved their fates."

Alessandro stared at his calm as a cucumber valet incredulously. "Deserved their fates! Deserved-! Why in the world would anyone think of such a thing—! What manner of actuation would merit such a fate? Was it done by a rival famiglia? A blood feud?"

"I believe the cause what that they made a very unwise and untimely move against the Head Famiglia at the time and were promptly and firmly put in their place for such blatant display of audacity."

The statement made Alessandro pause. The cause for retaliation was not something new in their world. Respect and Power was maintained in a delicate balance. One did not rise to the top of their world without being decisive and without knowing how to deal effectively with any form of rebellion.

"I see. Do you know anything else?"

"The grapevine was very much alive during those days, though I was hardly in any position to hear most of it. I believe the Old Don and his retinue was made aware of the matter and they in turn made mention that the Testarossa attacked the villa of the Vongola's in the early morning and found death and destruction waiting there."

" _Death and destruction_?"

"Si. The Decimo, his guardians and I believe even the Decimo's family both biological and extended were in residence at the time of the attack. The Decimo's Chief Advisor, the former Sun Arcobaleno Reborn was also there and was reported to be the main instigator of the retaliation."

"The reason for the attack…did they know the reason why the Testarossa would dare break the long period of peace?"

"The Testarossa's reason was simple greed and stupidity. They never placed much stock in the strength of Vongola's Decimo back then. The main cause for retaliating, however, was not the attack in itself, but rather what the attack incited. I believe the final report—if the rumors were to be believed—stated that the Chief Advisor resented exceedingly having his breakfast interrupted by the assassination plot."

Alessandro blinked. He tried—valiantly—not to frown at his valet for his untimely joke but the grave seriousness in Mossimo's impassive face curbed his tongue. He couldn't wrap his mind around what his valet was saying. So much so was his confusion that he felt he needed to verbalize his own befuddlement.

" _His breakfast was interrupted and he retaliated by wiping out an entire famiglia_? Is that what you and the entire Underworld are saying?" he muttered in disbelief and wondered if the rumors about the tempestuous nature of the former Arcobaleno and famed hitman were actually a tamer version of the truth.

"Apparently the Sun Arcobaleno is very fond of his morning brew and grows a tad aggressive when he is denied it."

"I see...I suppose the entire famiglia is dead-"

"No, my lord. Aside from the financial compensation demanded by the Arcobaleno from the Famiglia, the casualties were minor and none were, according to the report, fatal. Apparently, the young Vongola Decimo frowns upon anything that resulted in lethal results."

"Then why have their family's operations ceased in its entirety? Surely the head of the Testarossa Famiglia did not simply give up everything in his organization? His group could've asked him to step down and let a new leader take control and negotiate with the Vongola."

"Ideally, I suppose that could've been done if there were funds available for a new regime to take over."

"The Testarossa Famiglia has holdings all over Naples and Rome. Certainly they are not wealthy as the Cavallone—few are—but surely they are not so destitute as to close down merely due to some unpaid medical bills?"

"On that account, I do have something for credible for you. Information according to the traders and bankers used by our-er—soceity, if you will, confirmed that the Testarossa Famiglia has indeed been declared bankrupt."

"But whatever in the world would drain ALL their assets?"

"It would seem that well after attack on the Vongola stronghold they certainly didn't have much to go on with. The retaliation the Sun Arcobaleno devised was masterful and the compensation he demanded for not hunting down the head of the famiglia and all their advisers personally was more than sizable and the cost of repairing the ruined Vongola mansion was also undertaken by the Testarossa Famiglia. Add to that the cost of paying for the hospital bill of every single one of their registered members and the Testarossa was left pretty without so much as two lira to rub together. The Arcobaleno may not have killed them, but they certainly didn't leave much after all his demands were met."

"I see. That's utterly brilliant in a way...masterfully clever and ever more so efficient. The Sun Arcobaleno is a formidable ally to the Head Famiglia."

"Many thought so too, at the time. Certainly no one in our society thought to argue his point."

"What did the alliance do?"

"What any smart man in that given situation ought to—every Famiglia that owed alliance to the Vongola sent the Sun Arcobaleno enough coffee beans, presses and espresso machines to fill an airplane hangar. Rumor has it; the Vongola mansion has a room designated for such emergencies so that a similar case will not occur again."

Alessandro glanced thoughtfully at the silent, empty cup of espresso staring right in front of him. He gave a look at Mossimo who merely stared back. He glanced at the cup again before murmuring, "Did my-"

"But of course, my lord. Your father is an exceedingly smart and prudent man."

"Good. Remind me to do the same when we come calling."

"Very good decision, my lord. I shall take note of it right away."

* * *

**_Seconda Regola (Rule 2)_ **

**_Security is something they take seriously._ **

**_When you must meet with Decimo in Italy, contact CEDEF. Then his Chief Advisor. If he agrees with your request, you will be vetted by his Storm Guardian or Rain guardian._ **

**_When you meet with him in Japan, follow protocol. Contact the Storm Guardian. He will then ask the Rain or Sun Guardian to vet your request. They will contact the Foundation on your behalf. If you pass, the Foundation will let you know._ **

* * *

It was the second day since he received his _Libro delle regole_ and still Alessandro Corvino couldn't decide if he should throw the thin volume away in disgust. The notations, written in what he assumed to be the Cavallone Don's hand was fluid and clear, though their contents, in his opinion, left much to be desired.

Today he was in his study, furiously tapping at his laptop trying his damnedest to find any clue as to what exactly this so-called Foundation was. Efficient as he was at researching, and already succumbing to the assistance of his available resources, it frustrates him in no small measure to find nothing—not even a small mention—anywhere of anything regarding this so called Foundation that was supposed to vet his ability to meet with the Vongola heir.

Besides, he mused irritably, _what kind of name is 'The Foundation' anyway? Is this some kind of institution or charity organization?_ He knows of the CEDEF and understood the protocol. He even understood why he needed all the necessary channels in Italy—but even in Japan, the country where the Decimo was born—the protocols where even more stringent! Irritated, he called for his valet and made his dissatisfaction known.

Mossimo would understand his ire; he knew him and his many moods and would be able to give him a fresher perspective on the matter.

"Mossimo, what in the bloody hell is this Foundation the Cavallone Don mentioned? I tried searching for it, I even asked our intelligence group and they have absolutely nothing for me. What have you learned?"

Mossimo cocked an eyebrow at his young master's belligerent tone as he poured him a glass of wine. He handed him an exquisite crystal flute and replied simply.

"What makes you believe I will know something when you don't and apparently, cannot, my lord?"

He gave a snort and took a small sip of his wine, "The day you don't know anything about something is the day this famiglia collapses. The Usignolo family has been the Corvino familiglias loyal seneschals. You are quite literally the shadow we cast. Now spill what you know Mossimo."

"That would be undoubtedly messy, my lord. Not to mention the fact that it would take me years to—er, spill—metaphorically, of course, everything that your lordship demands."

"Mossimo-!"

"Ah yes, the Foundation. I believe that is the organization in charge of betting any foreign group or party that wishes to gain entry into the town of Namimori."

Alessandro gave a short shout of laughter. "Hah! A security group for the small town where he grew up in?! This is what this ‘Foundation’ is all about?"

He nearly spilled the wine in his glee and had to surreptitiously wipe at the small spill he made on the antique desk before Mossimo's sharp eyes caught it before chuckling merrily, "The Vongolas' have such eccentric habits, don't they? How positively quaint. I wonder how such a small company could be more effective than their very own CEDEF."

"I wonder at that too. Perhaps you could put it to a test."

"You know what, Mossimo, that's a great plan. Let us see what this little quaint Foundation can do."

* * *

Three days later, three letters of rejection turned up in the doorway of the Corvino Famiglia stronghold. Their request to come and see the town had been politely declined and each time it was on the basis of some weakness in their security that they never actually realized until it was cuttingly and coldly pointed out by a security group that was nowhere even near the Famiglia headquarters.

Bemused, he sent a request effectively inviting the Vongola Decimo to join him in his summer home. In his wickedly inventive and mischievous mood, Alessandro conveniently forgot to add any address to the invite, stating simply that it was somewhere in France.

Two days after, a small envelop of documents arrived at the Palazzo Corvino. In the packet was a detailed aerial view of his private cul-de-sac, complete with the titles and proof of ownership he had signed two years past, papers and legal documentation he certainly never filed personally since he has ostensibly placed the property under a different name and never mentioned it to anyone outside his immediate family.

The packet also included a blueprint of the house's structure down to its very foundation and a meticulously listed and itemized bill for the cost of finding out where his summer home was. Along with all the fairly alarming amount of information was a small pale lavender card printed with a very short and succinct message: **_The Foundation knows and sees all. Now pay the damned bill. Or I will bite you to death_**.

"Charming." Alessandro muttered glumly and stared at the package once more. It was then that he noticed that Mossimo was coming up to him with a piece of paper he later recognized as a bank draft. His eyes naturally scanned the printed legalese and frowned at the line where his name could be currently found.

He lifted his gaze from the thick sheaf of documents and frowned at his clearly waiting and expectant valet. "Mossimo, what is the meaning of this?"

"My lord, your eyesight is excellent; they cannot have failed you yet. As you can fairly ascertain yourself, it is a bank draft paying for services rendered by the Foundation."

"Mossimo, tell me, in your infinite wisdom, whatever gave you the idea that I would actually pay for this travesty of an assignment?"

Mossimo regarded his young Boss with clear, unflinching grey eyes and promptly straightened his stance. Placing his hands, joined together as was his custom, behind him, he gave a nod towards the document his boss was currently glaring at with such clear disdain.

"My lord, when you asked me what the Foundation was, I believed I mentioned that it was run by a small independent security group in Namimori, the town where the Vongola Decimo was born."

"I know all that. What I don't know is why you are actually making me pay for their temerity in scavenging through the private details of my life."

"Sir, you told them you are planning to invite Decimo. Nay, challenged them is more the thing when you announced that you shall spirit away their boss in your undisclosed manor in France. It is their job to know where he goes and what he is to expect there."

"It was a test—"

"And they passed splendidly."

"Annoyingly, you mean."

"Sir, I suppose I should add one more detail to the Foundation's information, though certainly didn't think it was relevant."

"I seriously doubt it would matter to me, Mossimo."

"The Foundation is run by the Vongola Decimo's Cloud Guardian. He is said to be the most unforgiving of all his guardians."

Alessandro only glared even more so at Mossimo and huffed irritably, "And so? I fail to see where you are going with this Mossimo."

Mossimo merely gave a short sigh before gathering the remains of his lord's afternoon repast, making quick work of clearing his table before replenishing the contents of his wine glass. As he handed the flute back to his young master, he glanced pointedly at the bank draft before murmuring softly.

"Must I point out, my lord, that this is also the man who runs an organization that took us a few days to even be aware of. _The same man who found out where your private cul-de-sac was in less than 48 hours with nothing more to go on than that it was somewhere in France._ It would require no stretch of imagination to think how effectively such a man could make a fuss should you refute his claim for payment."

Alessandro threw an uneasy glance at the stack of documents that accompanied the stiff card that came that day before his eyes fell once again on the bank draft harmlessly waiting on top of his desk.

He gave a look at Mossimo before giving short nod.

"I suppose, in light of all things considered, I do owe him for services rendered."

"I believe that is, indeed, quite the thing, my lord." 


	2. Personnel Pain in the Ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes writing can be a serious crapshoot. Whenever I plan out a story, it ends up kicking me and leaving me high and dry. Whenever I give in to weird musings and let random madness come out, people read them. What's up with that?  
> Thank you. I whine. I complain. But I am grateful and so I thank you. All of you, who read, snorted, chortled and smiled throughout this tale. Here's to me, enjoying the image of someone out there with coffee shooting out of their nose because of something I wrote.  
> Best image ever.  
> Again, please take the Italian used here with a huge pinch of salt. These dialogues are the result of my shameless plundering of the gift that is Google Translate. SO be warned.

**Rules of Engagement**

_**Second Act** _   
_**"Life's a game, all you have to do, is know how to play it."** _

* * *

  
Ostensibly, Alessandro Valerius Corvino, 17th successor to the Corvino Famiglia, is languishing in splendor at his family's official seat of power to recover after the rigors and demands of his Inheritance ceremony. With an established famiglia such as his whose line of power had been uninterrupted and uncontested since its founding, it was taken as only natural that the newest boss would take time to familiarize himself with new alliances, review his staff and recruit the would-be members of his permanent entourage. Such periodic withdrawal from the Underworld Society by its prominent heads and successors were taken as the time when plans and strategies are made before plunging right into business. There was no rush in his case after all, no vacuum of power that must be filled immediately, no pressing state of affairs that needed swift and often impetuous actions since for all intents and purposes the Corvino Famiglia's 15th and 16th Heads were still very much alive and able to provide ample and immediate assistance.

This, however, was only the most convenient excuse the Corvino Famiglia is giving regarding their erstwhile absent heir. They effectively field questions without any cause for suspicion and continue on the everyday needs of the famiglia as efficiently as when the previous head was still in power.

Truthfully though, the reason was so much farther than the current status quo. The reason as to why he was currently cloistered in his family's oldest mansion is a matter of family politics. He could hardly tell anyone—save Mossimo, of course—that he was ordered—quite literally and forcefully—under house arrest by his grandfather, his father and his famiglia's clan leaders—with the specific instruction that he cannot proceed with any further dealings until the matter of his presentation with the Head of their Famiglia's Alliance is completed.

And so here he was, three weeks into his self-imposed confinement, sequestered in his study and kept under the watchful eye of his valet, bodyguard, general factotum Mossimo. His only respite was the designated family dinners, important business conferences, the occasional bathroom breaks, his daily meals and his morning and evening ablutions. Sleep, according to his irascible and clearly opinionated grandfather, was entirely optional.

When he heard the heavy oak doors swing open, he promptly dropped the thrice-cursed volume he had taken into carrying with him and pinned his clearly amused second-in-command with baleful eyes. He glared at him for a full minute before snorting derisively at his servant's clear nonchalance. The man looked chipper than a canary that knew it was the one playing with the cat.

**_"Buongiorno, Padrone. Che cosa ti piacerebbe per la prima colazione?"_ **   
_Good morning , Boss. What would you like for breakfast?_

_**"La tua testa su una lancia."** _   
_Your head on a spear._

He knows that Mossimo would pick up on his mood immediately but he was in no frame of mind to censure his tongue. Business dealings he could do and devote limitless time and energy on, but this vague presentation was starting to grate on his nerves. He wonders still why there seemed to be too many things he should simply master. And in this case, none of it seemed relevant or even logical.

"A bit bloody, don't you think for morning repast, my lord? Shall I prepare your usual dishes then?"  
"No." Alessandro bit out. He refused to acknowledge the amusement that fairly radiated off his companion.  
"You need to eat.”  
“I am a fully-functioning adult. I don’t have to do anything.”  
“So it would seem. Well then, how goes the studying, my lord?"  
He glared at his manservant as the man pulled at one of the old-fashion bell-pulls that sent a message through the mansions kitchen.

_**"Traditore."** Traitor_

  
"Harsh and quite untrue. I am as ever your loyal and devoted servant. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed again, my lord? Perhaps a cappuccino to settle your temper?"

  
He threw his hands in the air. Since he woke up, his head aching from trying to decipher the notations in the leather journal that was quickly becoming the bane of his existence, he wondered how his smooth transition from would-be successor to head became so complicated. And now, even his father and grandfather is ringing him up to constantly nag him about it. He cast a glowering look at Mossimo when he finished conferring with the kitchen maid that appeared in his study.

  
_**"Come si fa a ditegli di tutte le persone?!"**_ _How can you tell him of all people?!_

  
Mossimo gave him an eloquent look as if seriously contemplating his sanity. It was look that the man seemed to have developed and patented ever since Alessandro could remember. Five years old or thirty, the man could reduce him to a flustered boy with just a look. Chagrined, he sulked further into his leather seat and glared instead at the hapless volume he tossed in a fit of temper down on his desk.

  
**_"Egli è tuo padre. Ha chiesto. Ho avuto a rispondere."_ **   
_He is your father. He asked. I had to answer him._

  
A knock interrupted their détente and one of the mansions maids came and wheeled in an antique silver cart that carried covered dishes and a carafe of steaming coffee, curtseying as she withdrew. Mossimo immediately prepared his drink and placed the exquisite bone china on his desk. Gingerly, he reached out and took a sip of the scalding liquid, thankful for the enervating shot of caffeine. His voice, no longer petulant, though still a bit surly, posed another question.

  
_**"E mio nonno?"** And my grandfather?_

  
"What about him?" His manservant busied himself setting his morning repast on one of the other tables scattered in his study. He lifted dome after silver dome of covered dishes and either nodded appreciatively of tut-tutted in contemplation.

"Mossimo…don't toy with me so early in the morning. You know very well that I am not at my best when I have less than seven hours of sleep in me. And this thing is depriving me not just of sleep but of my freedom."

The man simply gave him a glance and a sigh and continued with his work. He waited until Alessandro roused himself sufficiently to sit in front of the meal before he responded.

**_"Il vecchio Don chiesto a tuo padre. Tuo padre ha dovuto rispondergli."_ **   
_The old don asked your father. Your father had to answer him._

  
Alessandro snorted. He picked up his fork and started on the still piping hot omelet that Mossimo placed in front of him. _**"Naturalmente**_."

_Of course. Of course Mossimo would say such a thing._ He knows that truth all too well. In his family, they don't bother with threats. Asking someone directly was perceived and understood as a threat. In the Corvino famiglia only dead men dare to issue threats and certainly only dead men would wait until one is issued.

"So where are you now on the rules, my lord?"

  
He gestured with his fork and was rewarded by an admonishing look from Mossimo. He swallowed his first bite of the omelet and gave a look of his own. Undeterred, Mossimo moved the plate away and gave him another look. Sighing, he dropped his fork and reached out for the thin volume. He opened the book he remembered to keep close to him and started reading aloud.

* * *

**_Terza Regola_ **   
**_(Rule 3)_ **   
**_Utilizing Key Personnel is paramount._ **

  
_Avoiding troublesome complications is a sign of experience. Knowing who to speak with and who to avoid is also par for the course. And this is never more true than with the unpredictable and fairly colorful members of the Head famiglia's inner core._   
_Aside from his personal guardians, his Chief Adviser and his External Advisor, the Vongola Head is usually surrounded by a host of other individuals who comprise the far-reaching and diverse network of personnel that make up the Decimo's private entourage._   
_For added information please refer to the index at the back._

* * *

"Who do you think he has in that list Mossimo?"  
"I would not be averse to finding that out myself, my lord. Perhaps we should do as the Cavallone Don suggested and check said index."  
Alessandro drained the last mouthful of coffee from his cup and nodded.  
"No better time than the present I suppose."  
He turned to the last few pages in the journal and saw a small smattering of profiles. The list comprised of names and a brief description of each individual. Amused and curious all the same, he started to read aloud the list.  
 _"Trident Shamal."_  
Mossimo gave a short nod. "Now, that's a familiar name."

* * *

**_Trident Shamal_ **

  
_When seeking an introduction with Decimo do not under pain of death, use this man. Considering this man as your sponsor is like consigning yourself and your interest to some deranged mad scientist. He is more likely to use you as a subject for his medical experiments. However, his presence also instills a sense of security for the current head since there is practically few-if any at all-malaise or malady this doctor could not cure. His presence is also a major deterrent against assassins who would seek out to bring down the Head Famiglia using biological weaponry since up until recently there has been no reported casualty in the Head Famiglia from any type of questionable illness. There have been, however, many lawsuits regarding indecent behavior and harassment._

  
**Special Note: Do not engage any female staff when this particular personnel is present.**

* * *

Mossimo pursed his lips and cleared his throat. "I suppose that means we cannot invite your sister or your secretary to accompany us."  
"Definitely. In truth I wouldn't have been able to even if I had wanted to--Father and Grandfather would skin me alive if anything happened to my sisters." Alessandro turned to the next page and his brows furrowed. " _Poisoned Scorpion Bianchi._ "  
Mossimo gave out a small nod indicating he was also aware of the name. "She used to be independent but the grapevine confirms that she has been prominently in the Vongola now, like Shamal himself."  
"Does the Head require a lot of assassins at his disposal?"  
"According to the ripples we've caught over the years, they do not contract as freely as before. They were noted as members of the Head's household but nothing else."  
Alessandro bent his head to read the short notation.

* * *

**_Poison Scorpion Bianchi_ **

  
_She will occasionally offer refreshments to new guests to the mansion. Take this warning and learn to decline every and all offering from this beautiful woman unless you wish to personally see what every organ that resides inside of you looks like when you have to forcibly chuck them out. If you consume any meal she prepares, I can guarantee you they will come out—and do so_ **painfully.**   
_When you do encounter the beautiful scorpion, do not comment on her attire should she appear wearing goggles or garments that partially obscure her face. There is an explanation for it but it is too convoluted for the sane mind. Safest route with this personnel is to simply decline her cooking._

* * *

Alessandro took a moment to steady his breathing before asking as nonchalantly as possible. "Does she cook her targets?"  
"Not to my knowledge although from what I heard that might be a far better option than the reality. No, I believe she uses her dishes as weapons. There had been reports that her cookies alone could melt through concrete. And that her full-course dinners could reduce an entire army."  
"I-i-I see."  
He stared at the journal warily and wondered if the material is toxic in anyway but he knows full well no mail arrives at the mansion without being thoroughly tested and put through its full paces—chemical, biological, electronic and the like. He turned another page and stared at the next name.  
It was one both infamous and familiar. One of the most coveted personalities in their world whose location has never been known despite exhaustive searches that lasted nearly half a decade. A name that until recently had been one of the most undisclosed secret in their world. Mossimo must've noticed his sudden silence and cocked an eyebrow at him questioningly. With a sigh he read the next name aloud.

  
_"The Ranking Prince."_

* * *

**_Ranking Prince Fuuta de la Stella_ **

  
_If you are invited to the Vongola Mansion, please be advised that it does not give you leave to ask the ranking prince any information you desire to know. The ranking prince is under the Head Famiglia's and more specifically the_ **personal** _protection of the Vongola Decimo himself and any perceived threat on his behalf are normally personally attended to by the Head himself. The ranking prince is considered **'Terra Incognita'** by the Vongola Decimo. Take this warning to heart for the head and his guardians are fiercely protective of this young man._  
 _It you are, however, lucky enough to be close at hand when the prince does one of his rankings, please secure all personal property and effects since very little remains immune to the zero-gravity field generated by the Ranking Star. The head famiglia has declined all lawsuits and complaints ranging from nausea to shock to simple loss of consciousness._

* * *

"Mossimo, did my father know? That the head famiglia had him?"  
"I don't believe anyone knew where he was, my lord. For some time, many believed the rumors floating around—that he was kept under lock and key by the Vendice for his own protection. There was also the one regarding how all the stress caused him to lose his gift and that he was in some disclosed location somewhere living a quiet life."  
"And all this time, he has been with the head famiglia. I wonder if that's one of the reasons they've become so powerful…"  
"It would not be surprising to know that the head famiglia utilizes all the information at their disposal. Especially with a resource as powerful and credible as the rankings of the Prince himself."  
Alessandro found himself running his fingers across the heavily annotated page. His gaze turned introspective. Something about the entry sparked a feeling inside his mind, a truth unassailable even as he knew there was no proof for it.  
"No."  
"No, what, sir?"  
"I don't think that's what happened Mossimo. The notation seem to imply that the head famiglia—no, the Head himself values the ranking prince—as a person. The entry makes no mention about his ranking being something they valued—only that guests should not ask for them."  
"Well, idle speculation is useless unless we meet with the young man himself."  
"If we meet with him."  
"Indeed. _If_."

* * *

  
_The Decimo also employs skilled engineers that come in and out of the mansion at odd hours. IF they are present when you visit, the Head may introduce them. **Do not be alarmed if one of them offers you a lollipop or shows a face that shimmers and glimmers in a disturbing fashion.** However, if one offers you a _ **box,** _simply decline politely. Should you also ever encounter pink smoke emerging from any room, **DO NOT pay any particular mind**. Keep your calm and someone will be along to give you sufficient explanation._

* * *

"Mossimo, you know, if I didn't know better, I'd say the Decimo is mad. And that the Cavallone Don is mad as a hatter too. This dossier is—unusual to say the least."  
"Maybe that's the reason he felt you needed it before you actually meet any of them. Think of the disaster then if we entered that world stark raving blind."  
"Point and logic as always Mossimo."  
"But of course, my lord."  
"I wonder if there is more…"  
"Hm…I admit I am curious as well, my lord. They are rather colorful."  
"I wonder if they have any family—ah! Here we are. I was looking forward to knowing about the head's family."

* * *

**_WARNING:_ **

  
_There will, of course, instances when the Decimo's biological family would also be in attendance, but these in conjunction with Mafia business, would be far and few in between. The Head of the Famiglia is an intensely private man._   
_However, should one be lucky enough to meet with certain females within the Head Famiglia's group, one should exercise the courtliest of all mannerisms that is in one's employ— **especially regarding the Decimo's mother**. Being a gracious and kind soul, it is not unusual for this singular woman to offer you sustenance—_ **DO NOT DECLINE.** _No matter what happens, find a way not to offend this woman because the consequences are beyond_ **DIRE.** _I cannot express the severity of how_ **DIRE. _Apocalyptic is a word that is usually reserved for the kind of casualty that would be unleashed should this woman ever shed tears and YOU are the cause._ You have been warned.**

* * *

"That-that is…Mossimo…"  
"Yes, my lord."  
"Please find out from Romario of the Cavallone what flowers the Decimo's lady mother prefers and see that we send her some as soon as possible."  
"Of course my lord."  
"And see that my own lady mother receives a gift too."  
"Of course my lord."  
Alessandro cleared his throat and muttered softly. _"You have to give it to a man who prioritizes his mother."_  
"Especially ones that could bring about something so catastrophic as apocalypse."  
"Indeed."

  
After lunch, Alessandro decided to tackle the journal once more. He noted that the index had another section to it and curiosity made him read it aloud as Mossimo served him his afternoon coffee and biscotti.  
"You seem to enjoy reading that, my lord."  
"You must admit they are a rather colorful bunch for wisemen. They are unusual, even in our world and I am man enough to admit to being intrigued by the need for a virtual rule of engagement just to meet them."  
"There is that. Certainly no one else in the entire alliance requires such a thing."  
"There you have it."

* * *

_**Regola Personale Speciale** _   
_**Personnel Advisory** _

**Arcobaleno**

  
_At any given time, former members of the famed Arcobaleno would drop in at the Head Famiglia's mansion. It would be in your best interest to remain calm as no one can quite predict whatever madness they bring when they are about. You have been warned._

  
_If you meet the former Arcobaleno **Verde** —do not volunteer for any experiments or any of his would be schemes as you would likely end up as a unwilling victim to his experimentation. Remember—the Vongola will not be held responsible so be warned._

  
_If you meet the former Arcobaleno **Fong** —smile and be polite. He is one of the safest of the bunch to interact with but please remember your manners and don't ask unnecessary questions especially when he already asked so politely because we will not be held responsible so be warned._

  
_If you meet the former Arcobaleno **Skull** —do not pay attentions to his boastings, naggings, claims or cries or distress because we will not be held responsible so be warned. Also do not attempt to come to his aid should the other Arcobaleno's pick on him. This is a daily occurrence to them and you have no place in their interactions. _ **Sure death comes to those who ignore THIS warning.**

  
_If you meet the former Arcobaleno **Mamon** — DO not speak unless spoken to. More so do not agree to any wager or make requests unless you have unlimited financial backing because he will drain you to the very last bloody lire and we will not be held responsible or accountable if you end up bankrupt so be warned._

  
_If you meet the former Arcobaleno **Colonello** —do not pay attention to his curses, complaint or mutterings. More so DO NOT CENSOR him or you will be in a world of unimaginable pain with your eardrums probably bleeding profusely. But if and when he gives you a direct order, better learn to follow double time or else because we will not be held responsible for any and all projectile-related retaliation so be warned._

  
_If you meet the former Arcobaleno **Reborn** —be warned because even Decimo will not be held responsible for anything he does. _ **EVER.** _Reborn is a law unto himself. So if ever you cross paths—wish that he's in a good mood. If not, hide and pray he **DOES NOT FIND YOU.**_

* * *

  
Alessandro Valerius Corvino could count the number of times when he has been rendered speechless by something new on the fingers of one hand. In the last few months of interaction with the name 'Vongola', he has used up all his upper limbs digits.  
He glanced at the pages he just finished reading and turned towards Mossimo. He blinked, swallowed, reached out for another sip of his now cold coffee and re-read the last page once more.  
"Mossimo…how should I-?" Alessandro broke off his own stammered response and failed to put coherently into words just what exactly he wanted to say. After a minute or two, he stared at Mossimo once more and gestured helplessly at the opened and clearly and curiously creased page.  
"I would simply take their advice on those things sir."  
"I suppose that's the only sound and sane advice that could be done given the circumstances. I am not foolish enough to argue with someone _THAT_ familiar with the Arcobaleno's idiosyncrasies to know how to react to their foibles."  
"Excellent decision my lord. By the by, there is a dinner invitation for you tonight. The Avvoltoio Famiglia is hosting."  
"Ah yes, of course. I have accepted that invitation on father's behalf. Remind me to make preparations."  
"As you wish, my lord.  
Alessandro glanced at a few more notations in the journal before sealing the volume in his study's vault for the night. He needed to think of a suitable gift to bring for the night's celebration. The Avvoltoio famiglia's head was a senior in school and he recalls that the man favored wines. Time perhaps, to pay a visit to his cellar. It was certainly a choice that's far easier, not to mention saner, than spending yet another night trying to decipher the maddening world that is Vongola.

* * *

Later in the evening, amidst the glittering crowds and of elegantly clad guests a series of sounds brought him to a standstill. Mossimo, ever observant and candid, of course, noted his sudden silence and tension and approached him immediately.  
"My lord? Is anything amiss?"  
"Mossimo…do you hear those voices?"  
Mossimo's gaze immediately zeroed in on a rather fearsome bunch of Mafioso clearly highlighted by their complete and utter lack of nearby companions. They occupied a corner of the ballroom and it was quite obvious that no one dared to come any closer—not even the party's host himself.  
"I doubt if anyone in the room failed to, my lord. They are rather boisterous. What is your interest in the—er—disruptors?"  
"I think the journal mentioned them—or something quite like them. Find out who they are will you?"  
"I believe that those men are members of the Varia, sir."  
"Varia? **_The Varia_** —the Head Famiglia's extermination group--that _Varia_?!"  
"Undoubtedly, sir. The silver-headed one I believe sir, was in the same grammar school as you."  
He had dismissed the journal as something outrageous and perhaps foolish but now, as if his conscience recorded the sound of his own voice reciting the lines aloud, the passage came to him out of nowhere.

* * *

_**Should at any time you come upon the mansion and hear these sounds, terminate the appointment and send immediate note or messages conveying your regret and promptly reschedule.** _

  
_**Example 1: VOI** _

  
"Voiiiiiiiiii! Did I tell you to remove the wine you fucking retard? And why did you eat everything on the damned fucking plate? Are you starving or something you damned freak! Bel! Get this fucking frog someone else's food will you? I don't care if you fucking have to kill a fucking herd or a fucking entire farm for all I care just get me something to fucking eat because I am fucking starving here, do you hear me you fucking retarded prince?!"

_That's one._

* * *

  
_**Example 2: USHI, SHI** _

  
"Ushi-shi-shi…damned shark. His Highness does not deal directly with servants. His Highness has servants to deal with other servants! You Levi! Deal with this frog and remove him from His Highness' presence! And find someone else who will deal with the damned shark. His Highness does not want anyone interrupting His Highness' meals especially some pathetic frog stealing food from some helpless shark."

  
_That's two._

* * *

  
_**Example 3: TRASH** _

  
"If you fucking trash don't shut your trap I will shoot you where you stand. I didn't come here to listen to you trashy retards mouth off like a bunch of sissy ass fishwives and I certainly am not in the mood to start now. So deal with it quickly you fucking trashy prince and control that fucking trashy black hole of a frog and stuff the mouth of that fucking trashy shark or I will use that crown to strangle you."

  
_And that's three._

* * *

  
"My lord?"  
"Tell me Mossimo…what sane man keeps men like the Varia leashed?"  
Mossimo gave the group a cursory glance, noting the speculative look that's current burning in his young boss' eyes.  
"I believe the Varia has always been part of the Vongola Famiglia structure. They are the ones that handle the kind of business no one sane should. It is therefore not really surprising that their members are composed of, shall we say, unique individuals."  
"No wonder the advice mentioned in that book was for immediate termination of contact. They are much like ravenous wolves than loyal soldiers."  
"There have been many speculations that the current Varia recognizes only the rule of the previous Don. They say that no one commands the independent assassination group of the Vongola, not even, they speculated, the current head himself. However, no one wanted to the theory to the test."  
"Why is that? Do they fear the retribution from the Head Famiglia?"  
"No. I believe the issue was raised but once. The ones that made the speculation aloud were silenced by the Varia themselves. It would seem that they don't mind that their loyalty is uncertain when it comes to the person of the Head but they will allow no one to question the strength and solidarity of the Famiglia itself."  
 ** _"Indomabile, incontrollabile e imprevedibile. Solo il Capo Famiglia potrebbe pensare tali persone come beni."_**  
 _Unconquerable, uncontrollable and unpredictable. Only the Head Famiglia would think such people as assets._

* * *

_**THE VARIA** _

  
_Please be careful to note the following sounds/phrases as these hints might make the difference between staying alive and sane and descending into utter chaos and madness. When you hear any or all of these trigger phrases-there is only one action necessary-_ **RETREAT.** _If retreat becomes impossible, then stay absolutely still and stay as unobtrusive as possible. D **o not attempt to flee, prevaricate or bluff your way into anything. Like packs of wild beasts of prey, they smell fear and love the chase.**_

* * *

"My lord?"  
Mossimo watched warily as his young boss stood from seat and walked towards the main door. His intention of leaving evident in the purposeful stride and his preoccupied look. His boss gave a perfunctory farewell to their hosts before proceeding straight into the waiting limousine. The faithful seneschal was quite unnerved by the pensive visage of his young master.

  
**_"Mio signore, è male qualche cosa?"_ **   
_My lord is anything the matter?_

_" **Niente di ciò che l'oblio non può risolvere."**_   
_Nothing that oblivion cannot fix._

"My lord?"

**_"Sono seriamente iniziando a trovare quel libro regola abbastanza inquietante Mossimo."_ **   
_I am seriously beginning to find that rule book quite disturbing Mossimo._

Alessandro gave his companion a wry smile and nodded. He pulled out the thin volume from his inner pocket of his dinner jacket and handed it to Mossimo. The man was clearly taken aback at seeing the thin booklet.

"I thought you left that behind, my lord."  
"Something nagged me when I was leaving it behind. I took it back before we left."

Mossimo nodded approvingly. "How very astute of you, my lord. ** _"Hm. Immaginate incontrandoli senza di essa."_** _Imagine meeting them without it."_ "

Alessandro gave out a short bark of laughter. "I stand corrected. I am beginning to think we need to make a copy of the journal for future Corvinos. See to it, will you Mossimo?"

  
**_"Vedrò ad esso subito, mio signore"_ **   
_'ll see to it at once, my lord_


End file.
